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#there's more than five but these are the first ones that come to mind
wonryllis · 1 day
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 10k (current wc, 2k)
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!!
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park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly
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vroomvro0mferrari · 3 days
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LN4 | Panic at the Disco – Part 2
Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
WC: 2.4K
Warnings: insinuated sexual harassment/assault
Part 1
Masterlist
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Lando turns on the engine as you get settled in the haphazardly parked car. He glances at you while you move around in the seat, buckling your belt. He just now notices the streaks in your makeup, although you’d tried your best to wipe them away, and how your fingers can’t seem to keep still. They’re running along the belt before fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Lando reaches out and squeezes your hand gently. You meet his eyes, which are desperately trying to make contact with yours, and you shoot him a quick smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Your behaviour makes it clear to Lando that you’re not okay yet. His joking around cheered you up, yes, but as soon as you’re out of his hold, you feel the same way as before.
Although the drive back is not as fast as Lando’s five-minute record time, it was quick. The faint hum of the engine and the music playing softly on the radio are the only sounds breaking the quiet as you stare blankly out of the window. Lando can’t seem to keep his gaze off you for longer than a second, his eyes constantly flitting between the road and your face, concern etched in his features. Your silence is highly unusual behaviour; normally, you can’t shut up, always ready to pick a fight with Lando over whatever topic comes to mind first. The fact that you’re not saying anything makes him worry. 
You know he’s onto you when you constantly feel the weight of his eyes on your face. It’s even more reason for you to keep your face as neutral as possible, to not show how much tonight has affected you, but it’s extremely difficult with all the thoughts racing through your mind. The silence in the car isn’t helping either, doing nothing to keep you distracted or to keep the thoughts at bay. You’re so glad that you got away from that man in time, that there were other people there to help you, and that Lando (although you would have preferred literally anyone else at that time) came to get you so quickly, but you can’t help but think what would have happened if those people hadn’t paid attention to you, or if you’d been stuck at the club for longer – would that man have come to find you? To finish what he started? The thoughts of what might have been, or what may still happen some other time in the future, freak you out and you’re sure Lando knows it. Regardless, he keeps quiet, unknowingly aggravating your inner turmoil. He’s waiting for you to initiate conversation instead, not wanting to say the wrong things and accidentally make it worse. He doesn’t know that, in your opinion, nothing he could say at his moment might be wrong; anything is better than the silence occupying the small space.
But you don’t tell him that, and so, Lando doesn’t say anything when you stay in your seat, still staring out of the window after he stops the car. He doesn’t say anything when he opens your door and offers his hand to help you out of the vehicle. He doesn’t say anything about the confused look on your face when you realise he’s no longer driving but instead standing next to you, or the fact that your hands haven’t stopped fiddling with the hem of your dress from the moment you stepped into the car. He keeps quiet until both of you are inside the apartment, not speaking until he’s closed the door. 
“You want some tea?” He asks nonchalantly. As if everything is normal, as it should be when it feels like nothing is.
You merely nod and follow Lando into the kitchen, passing your brother who’s passed out on the couch in the living room. He had obviously not missed Lando while he was gone.
You watch as Lando fills the glass kettle with water and turns it on. He leans against the counter, opposite you, as you wait for the water to boil. You stare at the kettle while Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. Although it’s not unusual for Lando to look at you, stare at you, even, the intention behind it seems different; Lando��s never been so serious or concerned. Usually, when he looks at you like this, you’ve gone a little too deep into a discussion again, and he’s too stubborn to back down. He’ll keep staring at you, forcing eye contact as a way to challenge you, although you suppose that’s exactly what he aims to do now. He’s trying to persuade you, as always, but not of his opinion this time; he’s trying to convince you to talk to him. He only proves you right when he relents, “You know you can talk to me right? About anything? You know I won’t judge you for whatever happened tonight?” He raises his eyebrows as he questions you.
The kettle turns off but Lando keeps his eyes on yours for a bit longer before making the tea. While he busies himself, you let his words sink in. Even though you haven’t always gotten along well, he can read you like an expert. You know exactly what he’s searching for, that he wants to know the details you haven’t given him – because he knows you haven’t told him everything. But you’re not ready to. 
Lando hands you one of the mugs he’s holding. You take it with both hands, in the hope of warming up a little, while you gently blow on the tea to cool it to a drinkable temperature. 
“I know, Lan. It’s just… I don’t know, it’s been a rough night, and really, I don’t want to think about it anymore.” You admit, looking up through your lashes to find Lando already staring at you, again.
Lando accepts the response and nods. At least now you know how he feels about it – if you didn’t already. He inhales deeply before pushing off the counter and walking to the living room. “You coming?” He asks softly before heading off.
You follow, of course. Lando stares at the couch, occupied by your brother who’s snoring obnoxiously loud. He had already forgotten about the sleeping man completely blocking all the seating. He sips his tea while thinking. “So this is obviously not going to work,” He chuckles and you join him, “let’s just go to bed? It’s already pretty late anyway, and I’m sure you’re very tired.” 
You nod, agreeing with his suggestion, “I could definitely use some sleep.”
“Alright, you can stay in the guest room. I guess you’re lucky Max’s asleep on the couch. Otherwise, it would’ve been a bit difficult. I only have one extra bedroom.” Lando tells you while leading the way to the room.
“Lucky after all.” You say, sipping your tea.
“This is yours for tonight, then.” He opens the door for you and lets you enter the room first. You carefully put your mug on a dresser and quickly kick off your shoes before letting yourself fall face-first onto the plush-looking bed. Lando watches from the door opening, leaning casually against the doorpost as he watches you cuddle into the duvet.
“I was worried about you tonight.” He admits after a moment of silence. You twist your body and turn your face so you can see him, but you keep quiet. You’re a little surprised at his confession. Of course, you’re friends (sort of, at least) and he did come to save you tonight, but you weren’t expecting him to tell you so blatantly. Although, you, too, would be worried about Lando if something happened to him or if he called you upset. 
“You sounded so freaked out on the phone, it seriously stressed me out. I’ve never heard you so upset.”
You push yourself up, fully facing him, now. You’re not sure how to respond to something like this. You want to apologise, but Lando continues before you can.
“I… I know maybe I don’t show it so much – or at least, I think I haven’t made it clear to you – but, I care about you, a lot.” 
You smile at his admission.
“Sometimes I think maybe I care about you too much. Too much for just being friends, at least.” He avoids your eyes while he says it, seemingly shrinking into himself as if he’s afraid of your reaction. 
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Lando shy like this. He’s always full of energy, extraverted and definitely not afraid to look you in the eyes. Hell, less than half an hour ago he was staring at you so intensely you were unable to look away. The highly unusual behaviour completely throws you off. But you imagine not saying anything will only make him more shy.
“Can you hand me my tea?” You finally ask him.
Lando stares at the ground a second longer. The only thought running through his head is how much he probably just screwed up your friendship, and possibly the one with your older brother, too. Seeing his reaction to your question, all you can think about is how what you just said was probably worse than saying nothing. He (sort of) admitted that he likes you, and you ask him to hand you your tea? What kind of person does that? Nevertheless, Lando walks into the room and grabs the mug off the dresser.
You get up on your knees while he moves closer to the bed. You don’t only grab your mug, but his as well once he gets close enough, and place them onto the bedside table next to you. Lando finally meets your eyes when your hands touch, the confidence and mischief usually apparent in his eyes replaced by vulnerability and honesty. You’re certain Lando can read the emotions showing on your face just as effortlessly as you can his, if not even more so. You feel uncertain and at a loss for words at the unfamiliar glance in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, that was stupid. I just… I don’t know what to say,” You finally admit, breaking the heavy silence in the room. 
Lando’s lips curve into a hesitant smile and his eyes soften as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You don’t have to say anything,” He murmurs, gaze locked on his own hand moving along the side of your face as he pushes the hair back. You nearly melt at the sweet (or is it enamoured?) expression on his face as he looks at you – as if you’re the most precious thing in this world. Not to mention how close you are to each other right now.
“I want to say something though,” You whisper back, eyebrows furrowed and teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as you think of what to say.
“I care about you too, you know? A lot, also too much for a friend of my brother’s or just a friend, I think.”
A bigger smile spreads across Lando’s face at your confession, unbelievably happy to know you feel the same way as him. He moves his hand back to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheekbone softly, admiringly.
“I know this is probably really bad timing, with everything that happened tonight-”
“Please don’t mention it, I don’t want to think about it.” You breathe out, interrupting Lando.
“-but can I please kiss you?” He asks, moving his face a tiny bit closer to yours.
You nod quickly, without thinking. It’s like a reflex, like you need Lando to kiss you. Although you’ve been trying all night to forget about what transpired earlier, you can’t ignore or forget the way Lando made you feel when he held you, and how much you need to feel it again. He made you feel safe, protected and loved. No one has ever made you feel that way to such an extent, not your closest friends, your brother, or even your parents. If someone had told you yesterday that you felt the need to be kissed by Lando, you would have laughed in their face, but now, it was the only thing on your mind.
Lando leans in closer, drawing you near with the hand on your cheek. You brush your fingers along his face, tracing his jawline as his lips finally meet yours. He tenderly strokes your face before he moves his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, while the other rests on your waist. You feel his eyelashes tickle your skin when he pulls you even closer, and it makes you feel so good. It feels so good to have someone who cares about you so much that they’d come in the middle of the night to save you, to make you feel safe and comfortable as soon as they touch you. You’re completely lost in the feeling Lando gives you, and the thought that you could have experienced this so much sooner if you hadn’t been so busy fighting with him.
Your lips move against his slowly while he holds you close. The butterflies in your stomach flutter when you feel his chest pressed to yours. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you run your hands through his hair. Softly, you pull on his curls, revelling in the sensation of his kiss before you pull away. His lips look red and swollen when you open your eyes and you bite your lip at the sight. You admire his face, his mischievous smile, and the loving gaze with which he looks at you, and you’re sure you have to look the same way.
Your hands have moved down to Lando’s shoulders when you ask him, “You’ll stay with me?”
He squeezes your waist gently and kisses your forehead before murmuring, “Of course, anytime you want me to.”
You give him a quick kiss, which earns a smile in return, before pulling Lando onto the bed. He gets settled before you do, opening up his arms so you can cuddle into him. You scooch closer and nestle your face in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and sighing softly once you’re comfortable. He pulls you closer to his body, holding you tight, before placing a kiss on the top of your head.
“Thank you, for tonight.” You whisper.
Lando pulls you just a little tighter, and mumbles sleepily “I’ll always come when you call, love.”
You smile, pleased with his answer before you drift off to sleep together, cosily snuggled up.
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f1goat · 2 days
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more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven
“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up. 
Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you. 
Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up. 
“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further. 
“What happened?” Oscar asks. 
“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs. 
+++
“Lan?” “Yeah?”
“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different. 
Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first. 
“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”
“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions. 
“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning? 
“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you? 
“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”
Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him. 
“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you. 
You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.
“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway. 
“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.” 
“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks. 
“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”
Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily. 
“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”
With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone. 
He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right. 
+++
“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”
“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”
Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him. 
“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.” 
“But.”
“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.” 
Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this. 
“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.” 
He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself? 
Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him. 
“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.” 
“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.
“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.
When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him. 
You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t. 
“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.” 
“Why?” You ask him. 
“Because we’re going to talk.”
“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”
“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”
You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.
The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore. 
The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess. 
It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you. 
“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore. 
He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string. 
Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage. 
“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you. 
“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.
“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. 
“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.
“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?” 
“Yes,” you agree with him.
“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.
“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”
Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out. 
“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says. 
“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando. 
“You,” Lando chuckles. 
You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him. 
“Lan,” you softly speak up. 
“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”
“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?
“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you. 
“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”
You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.
After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…
“You want that?” Lando asks you confused. 
You only show him a small nod. 
“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?” 
“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”
“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”
“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando. 
“Hope?” He asks confused.
“Hope that you like me back.”
Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm. 
“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?” 
Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can. 
When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back? 
You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.” 
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression. 
“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states. 
“Okay boyfriend,” you reply. 
“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again. 
+++
The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you. 
“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him. 
You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.
Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you. 
“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”
“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said. 
“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.” 
Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”
Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.
“Okay.”
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a/n;
that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story
i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs
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neondryadtarot · 2 days
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pick a pile ~ tarot cards
take a deep breath and choose pile 1, 2 or 3!
what’s on the way for me in love? 🔮💕
if you chose pile one
five of pentacles / five of cups
i see an ending here, pile one, an ending that i think you have been anticipating but haven’t yet been ready for. now is the time. parting can be so sad, and you must grieve this goodbye as best you can. this person may return as a welcome friend to you in the future. the good news is that i see this ending sowing seeds for a bright new beginning in love for you. new habits, new locations, new friends will set you on the path towards a new person, i’m seeing travel here, so please don’t lose heart. i see you can tend to dwell on the past, but this new person will help you keep your head in the present. i see them as very similar to you, understanding your needs easily. the colour sky blue and sea shells are important here.
if you chose pile two
five of wands / four of wands
pile two, i see an exciting person coming towards you, however you must know that this person comes with obstacles. nothing that you two can’t work out i think, but something that may keep you apart, possibly a work situation or some distance. this person will be very affectionate towards you though and make you feel relaxed and safe. you will know if this person is right for you, even if you both may have to wait. good communication and honesty will see you both through the difficulties. also just keep an eye on this person with money, you may need to be the responsible one in this relationship. bonfires and summer nights are on the cards here. this looks like a fun connection!
if you chose pile three
four of swords / nine of cups
pile three, i see you have been resting in the fields of love for a while now, maybe wondering if anything new will happen, or even if you want it to. well, someone is on their way towards you, if you’d like to welcome them. this person will seem at first to be quite opposite to you, you may feel ambivalent about them at first! maybe a person who is more active and outgoing than you. i think this is a connection through friends. pink flowers are a strong symbol here. i’m seeing that eventually this person will fit right in to your current relaxed way of life. they won’t mind chilling out with you, as long as sometimes you try to meet them on their territory as well. very sweet vibes here!
thanks for reading! ✨💜
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strwbrrychnnie · 1 day
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< about time >
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pairing:: bang chan x older male reader genre:: smut // fluff - - minors dni!! word count:: 2.9k summary:: you’re an overworked college student and your best friend, bang chan, is a famous kpop idol. he’s constantly busy and you haven’t seen him in months. he surprises you with a visit late one night, and scenes in the movie you watch sparks a flame you didn’t know existed between you two. warnings:: smut !!! unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), slight d / s dynamic, dirty talk, praise, slight pet play if you squint, swearing, petnames, age dynamic & honorifics, crying notes:: my first work on here :fingers-crossed: not entirely proofread either srry ;; i’ve actually never seen ‘about time,’ but i know vaguely what happens in it- bare with me if i get anything wrong ,,</3 i don’t know how to end stories i’m so sorry
it’s been a long day. you’ve been working on your homework all day- reading textbooks and taking notes, replying to insufferable classmates on discussion posts, studying for an upcoming test. all you want is someone to hold you, and nobody comes to mind.
that is, except for your best friend, chan.
he’s always there when you need him, but he's beyond busy. he’ll pick up every call within a ring or two, but never has time to talk more than five minutes. but he never forgets to text you good night, sleep well, to dream happy thoughts.
you groan, leaning back in your chair. would he come over if you asked? does he even have the time? is he even still in korea? you spiral and spiral until you eventually pick up your phone, deciding to find out for yourself.
he picks up before the first ring, a coarse voice filling your ear. “y/n? you okay? it’s 2am, sweetheart.” your heart aches at the petname.
“i- sorry. i’ve been up working on homework, i didn't mean to wake you up.” you whisper into the phone. chan laughs gently.
“i’ve been up. don't worry about me, it's just good to hear your voice.” a silence falls over you, registering his compliment. “you there?”
“yeah- yeah, sorry. just…” you bite your tongue. “i miss you, chan.” he sighs on the other end of the phone.
“i miss you too. look, how about… i wrap things up here, and come over?” your eyes widen.
“wait, really? can you even do that?” chan laughs again.
“of course i can, y/n. i don't have a schedule tomorrow, so i can do whatever i want tonight. would you like that?” chan teases.
“yes, please. i need you.” you bite your lip at your neediness. chan chuckles, and you hear a rustling on his end of the phone.
“you need me, baby boy? did i hear that right?” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut.
“that’s hyung to you, sir.” you correct.
“you're barely older than me! don't make me call you that.” chan whines.
“yeah, yeah. hurry up over there and come over, okay?” chan huffs playfully.
“okay. give me like thirty minutes, i'll head out right as i finish.” you smile, pursing your lips together at the thought of seeing him again.
“see you soon, channie.”
“see you soon, y/n-ie.”
---
it's almost exactly thirty minutes before you hear a knock at your door. you jump up, running to unlock it, greeted with your best friend dressed in all black.
“hi, channie.” you say softly, playing with the hem of your shirt. chan smiles, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist.
“hi, hyung. i missed you.” chan whispers as you sigh, wrapping your arms around him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. chan chuckles, squeezing you tighter. “you okay?” you shake your head.
“just… long day. needed to be around someone.” chan nods, caressing your back, holding you tight.
“i know, sweetheart. i’m here now, okay?” you bury your face deeper into his neck.
“okay.”
it feels like eternity, standing there in the atrium, hugging chan. but you wouldn't have it any other way. chan breaks the silence, clearing his throat.
“hyung, let's go to your room. you need to get some rest.” you groan, holding chan tighter.
“i'm not tired. i still have work i need to do, i’m so behind and-”
“hey, hey.” chan pulls away, holding your shoulders at an arm’s distance. “don't worry about all that. just get some rest, with me, yeah?” chan cups your face in his hand, caressing your cheek. you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut.
“okay.. fine.” you give up, melting into chan’s touch. chan giggles, moving a hand from your shoulder down to your hand.
“that’s my hyungie.” chan praises, leading you up to your bedroom. 
once you get there, you sit against the headboard of the bed, pulling a blanket over your lower half. “let me help you.” chan offers, sitting beside you and gently pulling the blanket over both of you. “we can watch a movie or something if you want?” chan suggests, snuggling closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and laying his head on your shoulder.
“we can watch something, i'm okay with that.” you lay your head against chan's head, closing your eyes and sighing softly. chan moves a hand to your thigh, caressing it softly.
“alright, anything in particular you want to watch?” chan asks, rubbing small circles on your thigh, feeling your breathing slow down. “or should we pick something together?” chan hums, enjoying the warmth of your body against his.
“what was that movie you watched with stay the other day?” you ask. “i was busy when you watched it, so i never got to see it.”
“oh- about time?” chan blushes. “that’s like my favorite movie. i’d so be okay with watching that again.” you smile, reaching for the remote and turning on the tv. you pull up the movie and press play, chan’s thigh against yours, his hand caressing your skin.
the two of you enjoy the movie, cuddling and leaning against each other. about halfway through, a sex scene pops up on the screen, shocking you. you purse your lips, trying to focus on the screen, instead of the hand on your bare thigh. chan continues caressing your skin, seemingly unbothered by the scene on the tv.
“hyung.” chan whispers, moving his hand closer to your inner thigh. “i’ll stop if you tell me to.” you shake your head, eyes falling down to the blankets, covering chan’s hand.
“it’s.. it’s okay.” chan hums, continuing to stroke your thigh, matching the rhythm of the movie's steamy scene. he keeps his gaze on the screen, as you bite your lip and refuse to look up. chan slowly snakes his hand up your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. chan nuzzles his face against your shoulder, as you bite back a whimper.
“hyung...” chan murmurs, turning to you, stopping his hand right above your growing bulge. “do you want me to stop?” his voice trembles, his breath warm against your neck.
you shake your head. “no, i… please keep going.” the movie forgotten, you purse your lips together, turning away from chan from embarrassment.
“good boy.” chan praises, his heart pounding out of his chest. he slides his hand up to your clothed erection, palming it gently through your shorts. chan presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, slipping a hand under your shorts and cupping your length over your underwear. you whimper, squeezing your eyes closed.
“channie…”
“shh, it’s okay, hyung. i’ve got you.” chan reassures, stroking your erection through your underwear. he presses soft kisses down your neck, nibbling gentle marks into your skin. “so fucking hot for me, yeah?” chan teases, increasing the pressure slightly.
“shit…” you bite back a moan, looking down at where chan is touching you.
“i know, baby.” chan coos, feeling you twitch beneath his touch. “i want to make you feel good, okay?” chan whispers, sliding his hand inside your underwear and gripping you gently. “is this okay?” he asks, his own erection straining against his pants.
“yes, yes, please, channie.” you beg, your dick twitching in chan’s hold. you shift the blanket, moving it off your crotch so you can watch him touch you. the cold air is a welcome feeling, as chan’s hand is so warm against you.
“fuck, hyung.” chan gasps, his eyes widening at the sight of your hardened length. he takes a deep breath, leaning down and taking you into his mouth.
“chris! oh, fuck.” you buck up into his mouth at the sudden feeling, his mouth warm and tight around your cock. chan chuckles around you at the use of his real name, as he moves a hand down to play with your balls gently.
chan hums around you, sucking harder, his tongue dancing along your shaft. chan caresses your balls gently, eliciting another whimper from you. “you taste so good.” he lifts off your cock to breathe, then dives back in, swallowing your length fully and bobbing his head rhythmically.
“channie, oh my god.” you bury a hand in his hair, just petting it, not trying to force him to stay down on your cock. you throw your head back, whimpering as chan swallows around you.
“i’m not stopping, hyung.” chan promises, leaning back down, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks you deep. chan releases your balls, gripping your thighs tightly, hard enough to leave marks. “cum in my mouth, hyung.” he begs. chan increases his pace, sucking harder and bobbing quicker, his saliva dripping down your shaft. he takes you fully in his mouth, his nose brushing against your pubic bone. you hold back a loud moan and bite your bottom lip. 
“close, channie. so close.” chan nods, swallowing around you, humming gently. a hot flash runs through your body, your hips bucking involuntarily into chan’s mouth. you come with a loud groan, filling chan’s mouth with your warm seed. you shake through your orgasm, your body going weak and your head falling back against the headboard. you pant, petting chan’s hair as he gently sucks you clean.
“there you go, baby.” chan praises, swallowing your cum and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he presses a kiss to the side of your cock, humming happily. “are you alright?” chan asks, looking up, concern in his voice. you nod, visibly exhausted, opening your eyes slowly to see a red-faced chan with a crooked smile, his mouth slightly open.
“i- thank you, chan. that was…” chan giggles, leaning in to kiss your cheek.
“anytime, hyungie.” chan smiles, his heart racing. he sits closer to you, pulling you into a hug. “how do you feel?” he asks, his erection hard against your hip. you blush, leaning into his hug, shifting so your hip brushes against his bulge. chan whimpers, burying his face into your neck.
“i’m okay… what about you, channie? can i help you?” you whisper, caressing his inner thigh. chan whines, breathing heavily against your neck.
“hyung...” chan stammers, his erection pulsating against your hip. “i want to fuck you.” he confesses, his voice barely audible. “but only if you're okay with that.” he adds, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
“oh, god.” you throw your head back in shock. “i want nothing more than that. please?” you plead and chan lets go of you, throwing the blankets off you both, sitting in front of you. he carefully guides you to lay on your back, your head against the pillow. chan giggles, slipping your shorts and underwear off your legs, leaving you alone in your shirt. chan slips off his shirt, revealing his perfectly toned body. you purse your lips together, admiring his body. “you’re so beautiful, chris.” chan blushes, looking away, covering his face with his hands.
“stoppp… i’m not.. i’m not beautiful.” you pull chan down, his legs kneeling on either side of your torso. you cup chan’s face with one of your hands, the other placed on his chest.
“you’re perfect, in every way. you’re so, so, pretty, christopher.” chan whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his face flushed red. “i mean it, baby. you’re so beautiful.” chan groans, pulling himself up.
“okay, okay, i get it, you’re in love with me.” chan teases, kneeling on his shins, slipping out of his shorts and underwear. you tilt your head to the side, admiring chan’s body.
“you’re not wrong. i’ve kinda always been in love with you, chris.” chan stops in his tracks, making eye contact with you.
“i… i love you too, hyung.” chan mumbles, his heart overflowing with emotion. he looks down, pumping his cock twice, his tip wet with precum.
you melt, reaching your hand out to hold chan’s. “so pretty, channie.” chan shakes his head, shy, taking your hand into his.
“hyung…” chan whimpers, his eyes locked on yours. he positions himself between your legs, his tip pressing against your entrance. “are you sure?” he asks, his voice shaking. you nod.
“i’m sure, channie. i’m good, go ahead.” you squeeze chan’s hand. chan takes a deep breath, pushing in slowly, hissing as he feels the tightness of your entrance. he stops, waiting for you to adjust. 
“you okay?” he asks, his face flushed. you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping chan’s hand tightly.
“so- so big, channie.”
“sorry, hyungie.” chan apologizes, pulling out slightly and slowly pushes in again, a little further this time. “i’ll be gentle, i promise.” he whispers, his eyes locked on your face. you purse your lips together, gripping chan’s hand as tight as you can.
“it’s okay- ah,” you whimper. “you can go deeper. i can take it.” chan nods, thrusting slightly deeper, eyes blown wide at the sensation.
“fuck, you’re so tight, hyung.” he groans, starting a gentle pace, rocking back and forth out of you. you throw your head back at the burn, squeezing chan’s hand at every thrust. he squeezes back gently.
“puppy, feels so good.”
you can feel chan twitch inside of you, and he collapses onto your chest. he breathes heavily, holding your hand tight, stalling the movement of his hips.
“call me that again.” you chuckle, slipping your free hand into his hair.
“what..? puppy?” chan whines, burying his face into your shirt. he ruts up into you involuntarily, groaning as he pushes deeper into you.
“you’re driving me crazy, hyung.” his thrusts pick up again, going deeper every time. you softly pull his hair, groaning at the wonderful mix of pleasure and pain.
“just like that, puppy, you’re doing so well.” chan gasps into your shirt, his pace growing frantic. he fucks you harder, his free hand gripping your hip tightly. you moan loudly, eyes blown wide, watching chan fall apart on top of you.
“i’m- fuck, i’ll cum if you keep calling me that.” he bites the fabric of your shirt, his dick twitching inside of you as he ruts deeper into you. you squeeze his hand, pulling his hair so he lifts his head. chan looks up at you with teary eyes, a pout on his lips. you pull him closer, kissing him gently, your tongue running over his bottom lip. chan whimpers into the kiss, his dick throbbing inside of you. he slips his tongue inside your mouth, matching the frantic movement of his hips. he bites gently at your bottom lip, licking into you hungrily.
“good boy,” you whisper between kisses. “just like that, puppy.” you suck on chan’s tongue, squeezing his hand. chan moans into your mouth, his thrusts becoming sloppy. he fucks you harder, feeling his orgasm building up.
“hyung!” chan cries out, holding your waist tightly. he gasps between kisses.
“come on, puppy, you’ve got it.” you praise, kissing his nose. “come for me, pretty boy.”
chan chokes out a sob, arching his back, releasing into you. he kisses you hungrily, riding out his high. “i love you, hyung.” he whimpers, spilling his seed into you, pumping it deeper. you pet his hair gently, letting go of his hand. you cup his face, caressing his cheek, wiping a stray tear off his face.
“you did so well for me, puppy. i love you so much.” chan nuzzles his face into your hand, quietly letting the tears fall. “hey, hey, are you okay..?” you panic, frantically wiping his tears with both hands. chan nods in your hands, taking a deep breath.
“yeah, i’m sorry, just…” chan wipes his own tears away, embarrassed. he buries his face into your chest, murmuring. “just overwhelmed.” his voice cracks. your heart aches.
“i know, baby. i’ve got you.” you hold him closer, petting his hair and kissing his scalp. chan whimpers, holding onto you tightly. he lays on top of you, panting heavily, trying to catch his breath.
“you made me feel so good, hyung. thank you.” he mumbles into your shirt. you chuckle, tilting his head up by his chin to meet your eyes.
“anytime, channie. that was perfect.” you kiss chan’s nose. he giggles, kissing your lips tenderly. he smiles into the kiss, burying his face into your neck.
“thank you, hyung.” he whispers, nuzzling his face against your skin. you squeeze chan in your arms, sighing contentedly.
“i’ll hold you as long as you need, but we need to clean up soon, baby.” you caress his back, skating your fingertips along his muscles. chan shivers, snuggling into your embrace. he nods slightly, then slowly sits up, slipping out of you with a groan.
“we- we should clean up now, i think.” you nod, sitting up, wincing as globs of chan’s cum spill out of you onto the bedsheets. you chuckle, looking down at the blankets. 
“we’re gonna have to do laundry, too.” chan giggles, helping you up to your feet, kissing your shoulder.
“let’s do that tomorrow, yeah? for now…” chan pulls you in for a passionate kiss. “let’s take a shower, okay?” he whispers against your lips. you nod, rubbing your nose against his.
“good idea, pup.” chan blushes, covering his face with his hand.
“stoppp it, hyung.” he whines, turning away and heading towards the bathroom as you follow closely behind, knowing that tonight is nowhere near over.
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haihaihaitani · 2 days
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Happy Wife, Happy Life ~ *Shuji Hanma*
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Summary: Shuji loves you so much he would do anything for you. And that means not bleeding on your freshly cleaned carpets.
Pairing: Shuji Hanma X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluffyish Oneshot
Word Count: 1429
Warning: Swearing, mentions blood
Masterlist
When you first met Shuji, you fell in love hard and fast. He was wild, crazy, and completely free. He knew what he wanted and he wanted you. He treated you like you were the only girl in the world for him. And sure you may have catered to his every whim, but he paid you back in kind, making you feel loved and wanted. 
When he asked you to marry him a couple years later, there was no doubt in your mind regarding your decision. You said yes without the slightest hint of hesitation. It was an extravagant and beautiful affair, with all of Bonten in attendance. You said your vows a few feet off the floor and enjoyed the party of the century with the rest of your friends.
Now, you may not be the best wife in the world, you certainly did try. You were attentive and loving, doing everything in your power to make sure the days went by smoothly. It was easier said than done, considering how high up in Bonten Shuji was. He was either coming home bloody and bruised or he wasn't coming home at all. His temper and wild ways often got the better of him, and you found yourself having to pull him back from the edge too many times to count. Still, you wouldn't trade the life you built together for the world.
Gang life never scared you. In fact, you embraced it, if not for Shuji's sake, but also because you were both feared and respected. You took the role of a vice executive's wife very seriously. You made connections with other high ranking women in the underworld that served as useful links for Bonten. You even managed to get them a loophole with the police and judicial system, through subtle bribes of food and high class trinkets. In return for lending a helping hand with your charm, they gave you a hefty allowance to use for whatever you desired and protection from any and all enemies. You were truly living your best life.
Your pride and joy, besides Shuji, had to be your estate. When you both were pulling in over a million per payload, you asked Shuji to move out of the city. He agreed as long as the two of you still had a penthouse in case things became dicey and the estate needed to be forfeited. You also asked if you could be the one who built and decorated the place, which he also agreed to. Every step of creating the mansion of your dreams was carefully executed with excruciating detail. But you loved every second of it. The estate served as a physical monument of the life you and Shuji made for yourselves. It had to be perfect. And it was absolutely perfect in your eyes when you completed it. You were also more than pleased when Shuji told you how much he loved what you did with the place. The night you both moved in, each room was christened at the insistence of your husband, and who were you to deny him?
From then on, if you were doing work in the city, you were at the estate. Sure, Shuji hired staff to help with the upkeep, but you also pitched in to make sure everything was in tip top shape. At least once a week you hosted Bonten and their relations at the estate to show it off. You were truly proud of all the craftsmanship and love you poured into this estate and no one was going to ruin it or take it away from you.
One day, you were surveying a new shipment of furniture for the sunroom, as spring was almost here. Every other year, Shuji gave you a stipend to change out the furniture so you could keep up with the trends. It was at your insistence that you donated the old furniture, which took some convincing but he eventually conceded. As you helped move the last couch and end table into the sunroom, you heard the boisterous voice of your husband of five years bounce down the hall.
"Shuji? Are you home?" You called out to him.
"Doll! Where are you?" He yelled back. You rolled your eyes before finding him in the front room. 
You smiled and walked into his open arms. He peppered your face with questions as you said, "You're home early."
"Not really. I have to head out soon with the guys." It was then that you realized Sanzu, the Haitani brothers, and Hajime were standing behind him.
Flashing them a sweet smile, you nodded. "Hello boys. How have you been?"
"Honestly, we've been better." Ran scowled. "We got some punks who are encroaching on our territory and we're going to go teach them a lesson tonight."
You frowned at his words and pulled away from Shuji's relentless kisses. You fixed him with a harsh glare. "What do you mean you're going to teach them a lesson? Are you doing something you shouldn't tonight, Shuji?"
He winced as you used his name. "Ah, c'mon, doll. It's nothing that serious. We're just going to rough them up a little, remind them who they're messing with. It'll be a quick little operation. In and out. I'll be back before you're asleep and then the two of us can have a little fun tonight..."
You rolled your eyes and slapped his shoulder. "Leave the innuendos for when we're alone, got it?"
"Whatever you say, doll."
You then turned back to the other members of Bonten. "Is what my dear husband telling me true? Did Mikey order this little operation?"
Sanzu gave a wicked grin as he nodded. "Yep! It was on Mikey's orders that we carry this intimidation operation out. It's going to be so much fun! I haven't gotten to fight anyone in like forever!"
"You fought with some of the new hires last week." Rindou muttered.
"Yeah, but I had to hold back with them, or else they'd be no use to us. This time, I get to really let loose! And if someone dies, well, it's their fault for being so weak."
Your eyes widened and you ripped yourself out of Shuji's grasp, earning a pathetic whine from him. You pointed an accusing finger at him. "You are not going to murder anyone tonight! I just got the carpets clean! Plus I have new furniture in the sunroom! If any of you get so much as a speck of blood on anything in my house, I swear I will kill you all myself with your own guns and make it look like a suicide!"
Shuji didn't even flinch at your threat. Instead, he gave a wide, adoring grin. He glanced over his shoulders at the other members of Bonten. "Alright men, you heard the wife. No murder tonight."
"Ah what?" Sanzu whined. "But I really want to!"
He lazily shook his head. "Nope. Not tonight. Besides, I also don't want any blood in this house either. It's too messy and a bitch to clean up."
"You didn't seem that concerned two months ago." Hajime gave a smirk, knowing he said something that was going to get Shuji in trouble.
"What's that supposed to mean?" You harshly grabbed your husband's tie. "Did you get blood in my house when I wasn't here two weeks ago? I swear if you did-"
"Jeez woman." His smooth voice stopped you, as he continued to grin at you. "I thought you said to keep the innuendos for when we're alone. Keep this up and you're going to make me-"
You release his tie with a scowl. "You're disgusting."
"And you're sexy as hell when you're angry." He shook his head. "Oh, we are so having fun when I get home tonight."
You scoffed and folded your arms over your chest. You refused to show him how hot and bothered you were getting. "You have your mission from Mikey to carry out. You all should be heading out. Get out of my house and don't come back if you're all covered in blood."
"Will do, boss lady." Ran gave you a mock salute before ushering the other members out of the estate.
Shuji, on the other hand, lingered for a moment. He gave you a seductive wink. "Since I can't be covered in blood when I get back, I want you in that little red number I love when I get back."
"We'll see." You snapped, though you already knew what you were changing into when he left.
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ninjakk · 2 days
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Hey!!
I recently saw someone claim that Wei Wuxian was starved of conversation on his journey to Yiling with Lan Wangji and Wen Ning and so board he needed to chat to people before they ascend the mountain. I hadn't really noticed this until it was mentioned. What do you think of that scene?
I love your meta and fics btw. You use your understanding of the novel in your writing and it's just *chef's kiss*
Hi anon 👋🏻
Personally, I've not seen any comments regarding the above - but we can certainly look at the text in question 😊
Let's take a look at the scene in question:
Several days later, they arrived in Yiling.
The Burial Mounds were less than five kilometers ahead of this small town. Although they didn’t know exactly what awaited them there, Wei Wuxian had a feeling it wasn’t anything good. But Lan Wangji was right by his side, his gait steady, his gaze cool. Wei Wuxian had never been one with any sense of crisis to begin with, and with the way Lan Wangji looked, he was even less likely to get nervous at all.
Passing through the small town of Yiling, he was awash in the sounds of the local accent. It was invigorating and incomparably endearing. While he wasn’t planning on buying anything, he couldn’t help but strike up conversations in the local dialect with the street vendors. Only after he’d had his fill of socializing did he get down to business.
“Hanguang-jun, you remember this town, right?”
7S translation
So the scene opens with WWX gushing over how safe and happy he feels around LWJ. He's just so thankful to have someone by his side, someone he can fully depend on and is there for him, should he need it. This very much echoes his thoughts from when they began their descent from the Cloud Recesses, at the start of their journey here. For someone nearing the place he met such a gruesome end at previously, he seems incredibly content and calm - all thanks to LWJ. So straight away, we are reminded of how WWX feels around the other man. It's there for a reason, to set the scene. WWX is relaxed and enjoying himself because he's with LWJ.
They have just arrived in a city he is very familiar with. It's the place he both lived as an orphan and frequented as a man while residing at the burial mounds. He is surrounded by the accent of his "home" for the first time in over 13 years and it's making him feel sentimental. I also think it's a great parallel between when WWX finally visits Lotus Pier in the coming chapters and how desolate and subdued the place has become since JC became sect leader.
I think the above reaction is very normal considering the emotional impact it obviously had on him. WWX has already stated on numerous occasions that LWJ makes him happy and he enjoys his company, but he's also very sociable and likes to look around markets and chat with vendors - there's even a scene in the novel which states as such and many other examples. Although WWX is running around chatting and exploring the stalls, LWJ is still by his side. Doing so does not subtract from his obvious enjoyment of having LWJ's unwavering presence.
We see more than enough evidence that WWX happily chats to LWJ and that he, in turn, even responds and asks questions also. There seems to be this mind-boggling misconception that LWJ literally doesn't speak, and if he does he's like some caveman that can't communicate effectively, when it's the exact opposite. LWJ talks when necessary and is very succinct with his words - he's a true gentleman of their time. Of course, in comparison to WWX, he's much less chatty - but when he does talk it's sincere and relevant. WWX loves this about him! He's also an incredible listener and doesn't miss a single thing WWX says, which WWX also appreciates! Hardly anyone listens to all his ramblings and holds them all so dearly!
It's funny, because although WWX chats to anyone and everyone, it's obvious he enjoys conversing with LWJ the most. He treasures the fact they are on the same wavelength and understand each other implicitly 🥰
Aww! Thank you so much anon! I'm glad you are enjoying my meta and fics ❤️
I hope I managed to answer your question! Have a lovely day 😘
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anonymousewrites · 2 days
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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Five
Kusuo Saiki x Reader
Chapter Five: Ramen Shops
Summary: Saiki goes to a ramen shop (he is dragged there by a bunch of bothers)
            “We still aren’t there yet?” asked Kaidou.
            He, Nendou, (Y/N), and Saiki were heading to a ramen shop that Nendou had heard about. Saiki had gotten roped in as usual. He wanted to get coffee jelly with (Y/N), but he instead was stuck with Nendou and Kaidou, too. He thought it couldn’t get worse than being with two of his bothers and missing out on coffee jelly, but he was proved wrong. (The world hated him and wanted to prove everything could always be worse).
            “Oh, Saiki? What’re you doing here?”
            There stood Teruhashi, glowing and sparkling as usual.
            “Oh!” squeaked Kaidou.
            “T-Teruhashi!” stammered Nendou.
            The boys blushed profusely as they looked at the perfect pretty girl.
            (Y/N) gave a friendly wave.
            “What’re you guys doing out together?” asked Teruhashi.
            “Well, Nendou said he knows a good ramen shop, so he’s taking us there,” said Kaidou, rushing through the sentences nervously.
            “That’s right! We’re headed there to pig ou—I mean, eat!” said Nendou.
            “It’s our first time checking it out,” added (Y/N).
            “Oh, ramen, huh?” remarked Teruhashi. She glanced over at Saiki. “If you don’t mind, can I come with you? Am I being a bit pushy?” She winked cutely.
            “W-Well, I don’t mind!” squeaked Kaidou.
            “It’d be great if you came!” said Nendou.
            “The more the merrier!” chirped (Y/N).
            Seriously? You, too? Saiki sighed.
            This is the perfect chance to get Saiki to say “Oh, wow” and stop paying so much attention to (L/N)! Sure, they’re not ugly, but I’m the person he should be paying attention to! I’m the perfect pretty girl! thought Teruhashi as they walked through the streets, gaining attention from passersby.
            “Is the shop this way?” she asked angelically, completely at odds with her aggressively competitive thoughts.
            “Ah, yes,” said Nendou rather formally.
            (Y/N) was laughing at their friends’ sudden transformations (excepting Saiki, of course).
            At least they’re enjoying themself. Saiki supposed one person enjoying themself was better than none, and although he’d rather be the one enjoying himself, he preferred when (Y/N) was happy. It was what they always should be.
            “Why, I didn’t expect you to eat ramen, Teruhashi,” said Nendou, a strangely gentlemanlike face on his face.
            Saiki was glad Nendou’s strange face could distract him from his own new thoughts.
            Teruhashi giggled. “Say, Kaidou.” She turned to the suddenly shy boy.
            “Y-Yes?!” he squeaked nervously.
            “Why do you always have bandages on your hands?” asked Teruhashi.
            “Oh, I do it so my powers won’t go out of control!” stammered Kaidou.
            “Powers…?” questioned Teruhashi. “Sorry, I can’t quite understand what you’re saying.”
            “Well, it just got like this! I don’t even know why!” Kaidou began unwinding his bandages while blushing heavily. “I’ll take them off!”
            (Y/N) caught the gauze, rolled it up, and put it in their pocket. “He’s probably gonna regret that once she’s gone,” they whispered to Saiki.
            So they notice that people act odd around Teruhashi. That means they probably are being genuinely nice to Teruhashi, not just being affected like everyone else. (Y/N)’s just a nice person. Saiki wasn’t surprised by that thought. (Y/N) was a genuinely good person. It was a reason he liked to be around them. Tolerated them. Put up with them. It all meant the same thing. (it did not).
            They’re so excited! But that’s just natural since they can have a meal with me, the prettiest girl in the world! thought Teruhashi. So why are they acting so calm?! Kunio Kunio! Why aren’t you saying “Oh, wow”? That should always be your reaction when you see me! And (L/N) (Wrong Name)! You don’t act differently at all! And Saiki always pays attention to you, even when I’m the perfect pretty girl! What could you possibly have that you don’t?!
            Yare yare. (Y/N) doesn’t bring attention to me or try to make me act differently. Saiki could just be himself.
            What makes so that a cool, mysterious guy like him that has a gaze who could look right through you… Teruhashi became lost in her fantasy.
            Saiki made a face.
            (Y/N) laughed. “That’s the most you’ve ever changed your expression!”
            Saiki schooled his expression. They were unfortunately quite observant, still.
            Oh, no! I take it all back! Even in her own mind, Teruhashi couldn’t allow herself to obsess over a boy. It all had to be about making him obsess over her. At any rate, I’ll use my charm to make him look at me instead of them and say “Oh, wow” today for sure!
            I’m attracting her attention. Saiki hadn’t gotten away from her at all.
            “Ah, we have arrived,” said Nendou. He pointed at a small restaurant. “This is the ramen shop.”
            “Wow, I’m hungry,” chirped Teruhashi. “Oh, wow.” She turned blank uncomfortably.
            “Whoa…” muttered (Y/N), making a face as they looked at the rundown shop.
            “I heard their ramen is crazy good,” said Nendou. “A relative of one of my friends’ dog walkers said so. It’ll be fine.”
            “So it’s a rumor…” said (Y/N). That’s never good.
            “Hey, don’t be stupid!” cried Kaidou. “There’s no way Teruhashi woulg go in a place like that! You don’t want to eat in a nasty restaurant like this, right, Teruhashi?!”
            “W-Well, I’m okay with it,” said Teruhashi blankly and begrudgingly.
            “A-Are you sure you’re okay with it?!” asked Kaidou.
            “Yeah, I’m fine with it,” lied Teruhashi.
            (Y/N) leaned over to Saiki and whispered, “Do you want to pretend we’re not hungry and go to Café Mami after this?”
            “Yes, but let’s go along with this for now,” said Saiki, but he was happy to acquiesce to (Y/N)’s idea. Sweet treats with someone he…fine, someone he enjoyed being around, sounded nice. Hopefully, this will dampen Teruhashi’s interest in me if she gets disgusted by where she thinks I hang out.
            (Y/N) grinned (slightly devilishly). “You’re enjoying this.”
            Saiki just looked at them. Yare yare. Too observant.
            “Well, a little bad luck builds character in people,” chirped (Y/N). “Besides…I trust you, Saiki. You’re not exactly going to revel in somebody being miserable. Anyways.” They waved their hand. “Teruhashi will probably head home afterwards and get offered some fancy food to make up for this. The others will be fine.” They turned away.
            Saiki blinked. Huh.
            The group walked into the shop. It was even grosser inside and completely empty.
            “What is this place?! This is beyond terrible!” said Kaidou. He looked at Teruhashi. “Hey, seriously, you don’t have to push yourself.”
            “I’ll be fine,” lied Teruhashi expertly, “What’s important is the taste.” She smiled angelically.
            They all sat down at a table.
            “Manager!” called Nendou. “Five ramens, please!”
            “Oh, no, thank you,” said (Y/N).
            “Oh, you’re not going to eat here?” asked Teruhashi.
            “I had a snack earlier today!” lied (Y/N), smiling brightly. “Plus, I forgot to bring money with me, and I don’t want to bother anyone today!”
            If they can lie this well, maybe I should worry about not being able to read their thoughts. Immediately after, Saiki dismissed that worry. (Y/N) had a good heart and was earnest as far as he knew. He could trust them.
            Not that that mattered in any way. It was just a thought.
            “Oh, alright, pinky, next time, then!” said Nendou.
            That’s how easy it is?! Maybe I should lie about having to leave… considered Teruhashi.
            Yes, please.
            No! I am the perfect pretty girl, not an average girl! I will persevere!
            The manager walked out. “Alright, four ramens coming up then.” He was extremely sweaty, balding, and unhealthily overweight. After fixing their dishes, he walked back over. “Here ya go.” He set the bowls down.
            The ramen smelled terrible and was spilling from cracks in the bowls. All in all, it looked uneatable. (Y/N) became even more glad that they made up an excuse. Their companions, who had not done anything to avoid this, all had rather nauseated faces.
            Teruhashi began to eat the ramen robotically. Clearly, she was forcing herself through this. Kaidou and Nendou watched in shock (neither saw that she was making herself do it).
            “I-I don’t think you should eat it,” stuttered Kaidou warningly.
            Teruhashi blinked.
            (Y/N) nodded. “That might be unsafe.” Sure, they were fine with some things not going Teruhashi’s way; it was something people had to learn to deal with in life (even perfect pretty girls). However, (Y/N) wasn’t mean. They wouldn’t willingly endanger someone’s health.
            “Hey, pops! Even pigs wouldn’t eat this stuff!” yelled Nendou.
            “Shut up! Then beat it!” shouted the manager.
            Quickly, the teenagers cleared out of the disgusting restaurant. As they walked away, poor Teruhashi clutched her stomach. Nendou and Kaidou tended to her sympathetically.
            The perfect girl, huh? Hmm…If she can go that far in order to play the perfect girl, maybe she already is perfect. Saiki’s eyes trailed over to (Y/N). Well, perfect for eight billion people. Other people are better for me.
            To spend time with, anyway.
            (Y/N) looked at Saiki. “Still want to go get coffee jelly?”
            “Yes.” Saiki didn’t even need to think about that answer.
            “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Grinning, (Y/N) grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind them as they ran into an alley that led to another street. They left Nendou, Kaidou, and Teruhashi far behind.
            The perfect person. To hang out with. To just be with.
            Saiki was glad to smell Café Mami’s sweet treats baking as his thoughts spiraled.
            Finally, the pair stopped outside Café Mami. (Y/N) was panting but laughing. Saiki just watched them, slightly amused in his own way.
            “Let’s go in! I’m starving,” said (Y/N).
            In response, Saiki nodded. They grabbed a table in a corner so that anyone passing by wouldn’t notice them. (Y/N) knew he’d prefer the privacy. They ordered and quickly received coffee jelly. They both sighed contentedly as they took their first bite.
            After a time, (Y/N) looked up at Saiki. “So, what was that whole thing with Teruhashi earlier?” When they got no response, they sighed. “Come on, I know something was going on. You clearly didn’t like the look of that restaurant, and you admitted to testing her in a way. So, what was it all about?”
            “She brings attention to me when she hangs around. I think she wants me to say ‘Oh, wow’ since I don’t.” Saiki ensured his explanation was phrased as a theory. Otherwise, he risked outing himself as a psychic. (Y/N) was pretty happy-go-lucky but could make a connection from observations pretty easily. Saiki had to be careful. They showed common sense at all the wrong times.
            “So it’s the Teruhashi version of interest in a guy?” (Y/N) laughed. “I guess people always want what they can’t have.” Somehow, that statement made their heart clench, and they almost frowned but focused on Saiki again.
            Once again, their insight is correct. I want normalcy, something I can’t have. And I want… Saiki watched as (Y/N) happily continued to eat their coffee jelly. He felt comfortable and normal with them. He felt like he could be himself without fear of judgement (minus psychic abilities). You’re the only one I can admit is my friend, (Y/N).
Taglist:
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miniversse · 8 hours
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⭑ ”i owe you” pt.2 ⭑
Tumblr media Tumblr media
╰┈➤ READ PART 1
⭑ jeongin x female reader
⭑ content includes: non-idol reader, non-idol jeongin, mentions of drinking, unprotected sex, releasing, fingering, mentions of scars and stitches, use of pet names (baby)
⭑ note: i cannot begin to describe how much i love this piece. please read part 1 for it all to make sense! ⭑ minors dni
⭑——————————————————⭑
recollections of that very night begin to flow through your mind and how everyday for weeks you stared into the dark alleyways, trying to picture his body there. immediately your eyes dart to his neck, only to find his tattoos slightly fading…
(SKZ)
your eyes dart back to his face, still questioning if it was true or not.
“i owe you.”
“j-jeongin?”
he slowly nods, a soft smile growing on his healed face.
“i don’t think i thanked you enough for that night.” he stops to look down at his shoes, kicking at the box in front of him to fill the silence, speaking again.
“what you did, it really changed me. you didn’t have to help me, even after i was a total bitch to you.”
the emotions you had five years ago the first time you locked eyes with him grew inside of you again, but in another light. first time it was sympathy and worry. but now it’s love and comfort.
“come have a drink at my place, as way of welcoming you as my new neighbor” you suggest, hoping it can soften the mood.
“you changed your paintings” he sets his shot glass slowly on the table, observing your living room.
“how do you know?” you never knew he would remember so much, and you felt embarrassed.
“i had to distract myself from the pain, it was the only thing i could admire.”
“i thought it was time for a cha-“
“other than you”
the words caught in your throat and your heart stopped beating for a moment. the way he glanced at you never left your mind, and it all made sense now. before you could react, he brings himself closer to you on the couch, resting his palm on your cheek. you were able to get a closer look of his healed scar, secretly admiring your work.
“5 years, y/n. you never left my mind for a day”
his lips clash with yours, aggressive kisses from the beginning. his tongue glides over yours, moving deeper and deeper inside of your mouth. his hand rests on your waist, sneakily pushing you closer to him. it felt like the world was timing you, your bodies frantically rushing to the bedroom, lips still locked.
his hand rides up your shirt, fiddling with your bra strap. your body tingles at his touch, bringing him closer.
“more, jeongin”
“i.n” he mumbles, breaking the kiss you thought would never end.
“I don’t want this to be a one time thing, y/n”
you couldn’t take him seriously while he glides his hands over your skin, exploring every part of your body and feeling his boner against your thigh.
“isn’t that why you moved next to me?” 
he laughs, placing his head in the nook of your neck, taking in your sweet smell. he brings his mouth closer to your ear, placing small hot kisses around it.
“you could say so”
the setting sun glorified his body over yours, stripping naked and revealing his bare self to you. there was more than you thought had happened to him. his chest had several stitches everywhere which were slowly healing.
“w-what’s this?”
he looks down, tracing every stitch and bringing his fingers down to trace them onto your bare torso.
“SKZ. i was apart of some underground group. we got into a lot of scandals and fights and deals gone wrong. we were wanted, dead or alive.”
he moves to lay down next to you, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear as you listen attentively.
“i was always the one who got the hurts, because i was always initiating the problems. that day, was my last day being in SKZ”
“what made you leave?” your questions didn’t bother him anymore, he answered you with love and passion, and it couldn’t have been better.
“you. i was a hopeless romantic, and i thought no doctor would date someone like me. so i changed for you.”
you place a peck on his cheek, laying on his chest to hear the rest.
“i wrote your address on a paper, got a stable job, got off the police’s radar and here i am. with you.”
his words made you squirm with joy and sympathy. you wanted to pay off every day of those 5 years he spent for you. you want it to be eternity with him.
“fuck, baby” he groans at the way you stretch around his dick, grabbing onto the sheets for support.
you moved up and down his thick length, moaning with every inch he put inside of you. he felt like an escape of the harsh and cruel worlds you both lived in.
“faster baby, faster” you oblige, taking him in faster and slamming your ass down on him, making him go wild. he brings his two fingers to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip open. he swirls your saliva around them and brings it down to your clit, moving in slow circular motions.
“oh my fu- i.n fuck” your breath became harder to catch at the overloaded sensory.
he bit at his lower lip, enjoying the view of your sex face, pounding body and wet clit. you couldn’t deny that he looked ten times hotter with his scars that must carry so much significance to him.
his dick jerks inside of you and his veins glide again your walls. he only rubbed you faster, moving to place his fingers inside of you too, bringing you to your orgasm. your unholy moans and sweet nothings filled the air, and your release coated his dick, lubricating his final moments before he releases too.
you fall onto the mattress beside him, panting and holding each other tight.
“baby?” you whisper to him softly.
“hm?” his foxy eyes gaze into yours, waiting to listen to you all day, all month, all year.
“i owe you”
FIN.
⭑ TAG LIST
@captainchrisstan @all4minnie @rylea08 @strayywayy @katsukis1wife @kayleefriedchicken
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biasbuck · 2 days
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BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays
Happy Friday everyone! This is my first 911 ficrec post (I'm usually over here if ill-fated hunters and their angel husbands are your jam) but I've been DEEP in the Evan Buckley hyperfixation throughout April so come with me for what I've been reading!
This is a combination of Buddie and Bucktommy and buckeddietommy (aka buckeddie and meatballs, heh!)
26 April 2024
tell me about despair by @hattalove was the first fic I read, specifically because I wanted to get inside Eddie's head more as on first viewing I found him a little trickier to grasp...but yeah...that might just be because I am he and he am I. This fic was an wonderful way in to understanding his inner workings. His queer awakening and the associated traumas he has to work through were handled with such care, and the character voices were just gorgeous. "Eddie's not entirely sure he believes in getting help, at least not for himself. There's only so much healing to be had for a body torn apart by bullets, for a mind that's only half there, for a man who's been leaving pieces of himself behind all his life with nothing to take their place. Except, as it turns out, falling apart happens in increments, and healing does, too"
evan, elated and euphoric by @gayhoediaz 16500 words of bucktommy first time smut anyone?? "Buck likes it - not just being with Tommy, being with a man - that part is obvious, but he… likes that he likes it. He loves that he likes it. Truthfully, he doesn’t think that he has ever felt more at home in his own body than he does in this very moment." This is such a delightful exploration (through copious amounts of sizzling sex) in Buck feeling fully present and fully himself in his sexuality, and it's gloriously decadent as well as sweet and sexy as hell. I loved this characterisation of Tommy.
Both Bermuda and Golden (Lost but Doing Just Fine) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels all hail the threesome fics! In which the correct answer is always - Both? Both is good! This one is gloriously kinky and sexy and I love the 'guiding hand' aspect and how both Buck and Eddie allow themselves to be led. "It's not that Buck's not happy with Eddie. It's just that being with Tommy taught him things about himself, things he wants, and he doesn't quite know how to ask Eddie for those things. He shouldn't have underestimated how well Eddie knows him, or how willing Tommy is to lend a helping, instructional hand."
Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by @elvensorceress is a gorgeously written allegorical tale with PEAK Buddie and Christopher family vibes set between S4&5. "In the aftermath of the sniper attack, Buck has to keep going without his partner while sorting through the layers of everything they are to each other, while Eddie fights for his life and through all his internalized trauma and regret for everything they never managed to say. aka After nearly losing each other, Buck and Eddie find their way to each other and their family’s happily ever after." My absolute favourite thing about this fic is the thread with the bedtime story that Christopher and Buck have created together. Just beautiful.
five ways to fall in love with the man in the mirror by @buckttommy is a bucktommy fic but crucially a Buck absolutely revelling in the poetry of getting to know your own identity. It also crucially gives me Jay Hulme vibes (iykyk) "Buck meets God at a gay club. He finds him in an oil-slick puddle on a damp night, neon lights reflecting off the kaleidoscopic liquid in the parking lot. or; Evan Buckley falls in love with himself."
and i know how i feel by @middyblue is a very sweet Buck coming out to Bobby fic, written I believe between 7x04 and 7x05. ALL the Dad!Bobby feels. "Buck stares off over the hills of Los Angeles, hugging his knees. He half wants to take out his phone and start playing Nine Simone (it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me, and I’m feeling - ) and half can’t bear to drown out the thin peace of bird calls in the quiet blue of the morning. Footsteps scrape on gravel behind him and he turns, half-expecting another hiker, but it’s Bobby, carrying a coffee tray with two to-go cups and a paper bag."
Short and sweet fic:
For All Occasions by @storybelle FIREFAM FEELS! In which of course, as per tradition, Hen makes the 118 a cake. I neeeeeed Hen and Buck queer camaraderie show, I need it, and just like this!
Wedding Bell Blues by @klutzygirl - much needed supportive parents actually fic! "Margaret and Phillip meet their son's new boyfriend when they arrive in town for Maddie's wedding." it doesn't go how Buck would expect, in the best way.
PS - if you have any henren authors/fic recs I should check out PLEASE let me know! I'm new and I love them!
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Note
Alright, and here's request #2
May I ask for Fives and Fox
with Prompt 14: Last Words
Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".
Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol
❤️ - @vodika-vibes
In Your Head
Fox
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Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.
Pairing: none
Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives
Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump
Word Count: 6.2k
Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚
Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot
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Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.
It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.
Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.
It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.
Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.
The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.
Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.
That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.
Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?
Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.
Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.
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"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"
Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.
Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"
"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.
Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.
"Talk to me," Thorn says.
"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.
"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"
Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.
Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."
Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.
Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."
"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"
Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."
"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."
Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."
"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.
"You killed a vod," Thorn says.
Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"
"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."
Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."
"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."
"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.
"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"
Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."
Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.
"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"
Fox chuckles. "I don't know."
Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."
"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."
Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.
"Fox," Thorn prods.
"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"
"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."
"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.
"I don't remember," Fox says.
"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.
"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.
Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"
"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.
"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."
"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"
Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.
"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.
Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."
Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.
Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.
Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?
Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.
Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.
Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.
He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.
Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.
Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.
Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.
Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.
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Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.
Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.
With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.
Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.
Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.
Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.
Hi Fox , a voice says.
Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.
Fox , the voice says.
Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."
So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.
Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.
It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.
Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?
"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."
Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.
Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.
I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?
Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.
He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.
Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.
"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.
The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.
Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.
Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.
"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.
The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.
Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.
"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"
The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?
"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.
Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?
Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"
I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.
"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."
Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.
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The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.
Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.
Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.
"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"
Fox nods.
Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.
Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"
Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."
Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."
"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."
"So are you," Fox smirks.
Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.
Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"
Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"
Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.
He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?
Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.
You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?
Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"
The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.
Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.
"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.
I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .
Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"
"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.
"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."
"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."
Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.
"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."
Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."
I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .
"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.
"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."
You can talk to me too , the apparition says.
"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.
Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.
Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"
No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.
Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.
The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .
Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."
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It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?
He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.
Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.
"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.
The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.
"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."
Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.
"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.
What are you talking about? the apparition asks.
"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."
Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.
"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"
What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.
"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.
C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.
Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"
Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.
Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"
You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.
"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?
Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.
"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"
At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."
Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.
"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.
Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.
"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.
"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."
The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.
Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.
A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.
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cricketnationrise · 22 hours
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20 questions for fic writers
Thanks to @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, and @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags!
How many works do you have on ao3?
253
What's your total ao3 word count?
481,635
What fandoms do you write for?
RWRB, Check Please!, Tortall, verrrry occassionally The Parasol Protectorate
Top five fics by kudos:
Going Platinum - camboy!Alex AU
Burnin' Through the Sky - speed dating meet-cute
Set in Platinum - camboy!Alex sequel
warm from the inside out - some stuff happens under a desk 😉
Downburst - In The Shadow of Two Gunmen/West Wing AU
Do you respond to comments?
I have responded to every comment so far!
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don't tend to write angsty endings. That being said, this Check, Please! ficlet I wrote for @shygryf is very angsty: Hotel Room, Mar. 1 (I did fix it with a later ficlet, but on it's own...)
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Most of them tbh. I'm an unrepentant happy ending lover.
Do you get hate on fics?
Nothing that comes to mind--I've been extremely lucky. I've gotten some baffling ones and some with a strange tone, but I think that's more down to English not being their first language, not hate.
Do you write smut?
Yes.
Craziest crossover:
I tend toward fusions/AUs rather than actual crossovers. Although there are Check Please! easter eggs in the Going Platinum universe.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I know of, although I would hope that any translator would have let me know so that I can flail in overwhelmed gratitude.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not yet, although there's one that's been sitting for a year-ish that I'm gonna be really excited to finally get to.
All time favorite ship?
I won't choose and you can't make me.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Not right now. All the wips I've got that are more than just like, one line or a title, I'm really excited about writing and sharing.
What are your writing strengths?
Immersive descriptions, humor, and metaphors. This bitch loves a metaphor.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Action scenes. I'm getting better, but any time I have a particularly big action scene I beg on my knees for @cha-melodius to get into the doc.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
Only If I feel confident about the translation. I'll usually get a native speaker to check it over if it's more than an easy phrase I already know/can google, especially if it's a whole conversation.
First fandom you wrote in?
Check, Please!
Favorite fic you've written?
You're so mean to me making me pick. Le sigh, fine.
Check, Please!: How Delightful if that Were True - Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society AU (100% homegrown epistolary baybee)
RWRB: More Than Brick and Mortar - sentient Brownstone AU, magical realism
Tortall: i'll rise up in spite of the ache - hockey AU of First Test
Parasol Protectorate: No Small Matter - 5+1 pranks on Conall that I wrote for @homobiwan
(narrowing these down was absolute agony, btw. hope you're happy.)
Tags under the cut, but if you wanna do this, who am I to stop you? Aka consider this your open tag.
@celeritas2997 @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @anincompletelist
@firenati0n @missanniewhimsy @montrealmadison @doggernaut @parvuls
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stareiiez · 1 day
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𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 --- one.
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simon ( ghost ) riley x female reader.
note: first time writing for the COD lovers. tell me how I did :). please be gentle and kind to me omg.
content : dark?? ghost. modern settings. mentions of suicide. obsession. stalking. unhealthy attachments. smut in later chapters. alcohol. dark topics. this is just my version of haunting adeline but for ghost. adult reader. MDNI. 3.6k words.
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Rain streaked down your large window's pane, clear warm waters raced each other down thin plane glass. Each droplet getting bigger than the others that trickled downward the more liquid each harmless little drop of water that was collected further speeding the streaks to drop down onto the sill. If you were delusional you would have compared yourself to the naive raindrops that beaded your window in the dead of night. You, the perfect round thing, sitting in paranoia and harm's way as it escalated its determined way to collect you into its grasp and swallow you whole.
You, losing yourself to the drowning and suffocating heat of entrapment that fear had on your throat, on your mind, on your entire being. You could always blame yourself. You could blame your idiotic choices for provoking this rapid current. You could blame yourself for never calling the police as much as you should. Not taking their advice when they did give it to you when you were swaddled in that horrid-smelling grey blanket one of them would provide for comfort when they would arrive on your property at late hours. Instead, you ignored them, ignored your normal conscious thoughts that warned; and tried to steer you away from this danger that was always lurking in your mind. You welcomed the risk. The pure risk of knowing who dared to turn your once perfect, as perfect it could be for an adult, mental cognitive thinking into pure garbage that was feeding its appetite for more delicious terror.
It's why you ignored the large palm print that didn't get smudged away by those racing water streams you had chosen to watch instead of taking in the details or gawking at how massive and thick all five fingers were spread out on the middle half of the glass. The creases of the print's fingers were perfect, if you even squinted and shoved your face against the glass you could try and see the swirls of fingerprints on each end of the finger markings left behind. A telltale sign that your attacker that plagued your thoughts, and your surroundings had been here. Whether it was during the day or he was just a few minutes ago, you'd never figure it out. You had the balls to not turn and flee this time, this time if he even had the balls to still be lurking in the thunderstorm outside; or in the walls of your own house. You wouldn't run and hide like you did before.
The only thing you however did not ignore? Was the blaring light of your cellphone and the harsh vibrations of it against the smooth palm of your hand? Slight vibrations had your nerves fire off in adrenaline-soaked supersonic booms underneath your skin that had your eyes jump away from the staring contest you were having with the imprinted glass to now move on to your bright phone screen. The contact name glared up at you and without another beat of annoying buzzing. You answered the call as if it was on cue.
"Hello?"
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"Hello ?? Earth to __ ." A pair of fingers snapped in front of your face in rapid beats rivaling a hummingbird's rhythm. The sharp snaps were enough to have your pupils focus back in and realign on your friend in front of you. Cheeks flushed in a small wave of rich pinks when you realized you weren't listening in on what plans your friend was trying to make with you for the only night that you were free for, ever since you got done unpacking at your old relative's loft. The quiet sounds of distant music coming from a speaker in your home, the sensation of heat still seeping into the palm of your hand from the mug of tea you were once sipping on. It all brought you back to the very present, the red-haired fire engine female in front of you. Insistent brown eyes glared at your warm face, irritation present on dyed red brows.
Tonight was the one chance you had to have some unwinding to gain some energy to get back to your life of being stuck behind a desk and computer when Monday rolled its ugly head once again. "Sorry. . . um, what time were you saying you wanted to meet up again?" Your lips quirked in a sheepish grin when your friend's lips twitched into an annoyed scowl.
"9. Veronica and I are taking the Jeep and you're driving to meet us at that dive bar, Vaqueros. Then we hit the club down the street after we finish our pre-game." As if someone in your mid-twenties can handle your liquor without consequences anymore. You weren't sixteen and sneaking Fireball and Kahula from your mom's pantry in the dead of night and trying to make fun and new cocktails for yourself and the girls who were sleeping over for the night.
You swallowed your excuses of trying to back out of tonight and stay home with nothing but a tub of ice cream and a 2000s coming-of-age comedy movie. You wouldn't dare to even annoy or inconvenience your best friend, Izzy, out of canceling plans; when you've already pulled the same song and dance of lying about too many things in the past, just to get out of a social event. Your eyes drifted to the clock on the wall behind Izzy, the little and big hands reading 7:30 pm. Way too early to lie about how you have to feed a nonexistent pet you have, or how you have to call your mother and tell her how much you miss her.
Your eyes darted back to her face. A soft exhale left your lips, fine. Fine, it was one night. One night of fun. One night of drinking yourself into a silly tizz and end up with a headache the next morning when you're nursing yourself with black coffee and the hair of the dog shot you'd make; just to make yourself feel at least decent enough to handle the public again." Right, then you better get going, before you dont have a chance to outdress me tonight." You tease with a forced grin.
The irritation present on Izzy's face seemed to melt immediately when you teased her. Delighted that you hadn't fought and screamed your way out of another outing, she was now her normal ball of sunshine and energy. She put the sun to shame sometimes with the amount of positivity and 'good vibes' that leaked out of her pores in waves of vanilla and champagne perfume. If it wasn't her good vibes, her self-medication of weed by day and alcohol in moderation at night was surely her fuel to stay hyped and chatty.
"As if you could beat my fashion sense. You can't even beat your attention span limit, you hardly even listened when I was talking. I don't think you were even conscious when you answered your door for me."
Another flush of quick embarrassment. You'd curse yourself out later when you were changing into your night clothing. It wasn't your fault, you were tired. Sleeping in a brand new place, in a different part of the city and farther away from the Surburan culdasacs you spent the majority of your life in. It was the quiet and actual sounds of birds chirping without being drowned out by the sounds of cars honking and the cries of the neighbor's newborns at eight am. You were surrounded by nothing but lush evergreen and pine trees that practically swallowed the dark mahogany-colored loft house you now lived in. Jet back iron fencing that interwove around each other in details of swirls traced all around the perimeter of the home; till they met in the middle to swoop and create large gates that protected you from the evergrowing dark and shadows of the trees.
It was nature in its purest form, wild and smelly. Untamed with its inhabitants hunting each other for sport between thick trunks and leaping from branch to branch to escape certain death. It was exhausting.
The trees and greenery surrounding your home had welcomed you and Izzy with gentle winds of pine and earth when she had decided it was about time you get ready and 'try to look like you're enjoying yourself' with your outfit. The sun crested the tops of towering tree tops. Oranges and pinks kissed the blue till it was a wash of vibrant purples, it was a beautiful sight. Just another perk to moving out of gated suburbia. How else could you have sunsets like this without them being ruined by city smog and highrise skylines that tried to rival nature's cacophony of watercolor evenings?
"Text me when you get there!" Izzy's voice chirped out of her rolled-down window when she pulled out of your driveway. The black iron gates swung automatically open once they sensed the cherry red Bug heading out of your property. Your hand was raised, waving the trails of dust and fading notes of Gwen Stefani away till the car was swallowed in the shadows of your private forest.
Finally, finally, could you let your face fall from its forced enthusiasm. Smooth facial features now drooped into a grimace when you turned your back and faced your house. A long groan was released from your lungs. Brows pinching. Eyes screwing up as you let out your dread and nerves about going out tonight. "I should have just told her I had gotten the stomach bug." You muttered to yourself, your hands raised to your scalp. Fingers itching at the roots of your hair in irritation before you finally exhaled. Eyes opening once more with a sense of sad acceptance.
You'll just have a few drinks. Hell, just one fruity drink and you'll slip back out the front door before Izzy and Veronica notice you being gone. Besides, when was the last time you had fun? Pure unfiltered fun? You couldn't remember the last time you even laughed so hard you felt your stomach cramp and your gasps turn into snorts from trying to contain yourself. This will be fun, it'll be good for you to socialize and maybe find a little someone to take home if you are really lucky. The last time you got laid was something you dare not even think about, it felt like years yet in reality it was probably close to six months.
With a shake of your head, you made your way back into your new home. Making sure to lock and deadbolt your front door, you turned to the living room/ kitchen. Rich dark greens of carved wood walls and black marbled flooring that melded with flecks of white in every square tile greeted you. The quiet was still chilling to your bones.
The open expansive windows, which were framed with even more luscious green velvet curtains, exposed you to the eyes of more green trees and sharp limbs of evergreens. At night those branches clawed at your bedroom. Sometimes tapping in a strange rhythm from the smallest breeze that begged you to let them in. Let me play with you. Let me in, I swear I'll be nice and good to you. The forest seemed to whisper. If it even was the trees, you wouldn't be surprised if it was just some random hiker coming by to try and ask for a place to stay in the dead of night if they happened to wake you.
A thousand eyes seemed to be watching you, or it felt like it anyway, when you had decided to stop procrastinating and get dressed in the master bedroom of your home. The windows were drawn open, just for the sheer thought that nature didn't mind a little skin and curves. After all, Eve and the Garden of Eden were very intimate all those thousands of years ago when being naked was the new cool. 
You stared at your reflection in the floor-length mirror, judging and scoffing at potential outfit combinations that would fit the dive bar and club scene. Something that still screamed 'sexy' in not over flashy loud look for a backwater bar; but just short and good enough to get the bouncer's approval at the trashiest club you'd be dragged to. Your bed and floor were nearly a mess when you decided to settle on a coppery red outfit. It was a dress that was accentuating the curve of your ass and low on the neckline that hugged your sides and dips with a tasteful flourish. The hem of the dress ended at mid-thigh, the material flowy to let you not walk so straight-legged to risk your dress riding up and flashing a stranger your no-show thong. The color complimented your skin color, a not-too-warm color that seemed casual but the style and length were fun for easy access if you were in a hurry to get fucked in the bathroom at two am. 
The Go-Go boots you decided to pair with the dress only elevated the look, letting your thighs and calves do most of the talking for starving eyes to get a good peek at smooth-shaven skin. Your makeup was tasteful, hints of the same copper red were blended onto your eyes with a neutral lip to keep things easy. You weren't trying to look good with all the work. God bless tutorials and Ulta Beauty.
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"Have I told you how happy I am you're here?" Izzy gasped out for the third time that night. Her black lipstick peeled into an expressive smile at you, the glitters on her skin she applied had her eyes sparkling even more under the amber lights of the bartop you and your two friends sat at. The crowd of people in the bar made it hard for you to hear her, but you could practically tell how excited she was for tonight. 
"About just as much as you told her how hot she looks too," Veronica added, wiggling her eyebrows in approval around the dip of Izzy's hunched figure. Her short-cut hair hid the teasing crinkle in her almond-shaped eyes of hers. Veronica, a childhood friend of yours since kindergarten. Only the years of middle school and your moving to a different school cut the friendship short. It was highschool sophomore year and a quick Instagram follow that had you two thick as thieves once more. 
"You both are hot, now let's drink!" You giggled, nudging Izzy's arm with a bashful smile. Her other arm held the second shot of the night all three of you were about to down. The amber liquid smells strong in your nose and on your breath. Whiskey was a sipping drink, but you were here to have fun and regret tomorrow. It was decided in the back of your mind when you meet Izzy and Veronica in the parking lot of the Vaquero's bar. 
Their, Izzy's, eager waving and wolf whistles had changed your mind from bailing on your friends for the night; to genuinely having fun in your young adult life. 
"To being single and getting fucked or fucked up tonight!" Izzy whooped out, her hand raised high in the air with the single shot gripped between clammy fingers. Veronica hissed through her teeth to shush her, but you couldn't help the loud giggle you let bubble up from your throat. 
The eyes on you from grown men and women around you silently judging you were overlooked and cast aside. You didn't give one single fuck, respectfully. Your glass threatened to shatter from impact when you clinked it against hers. The amber whiskey burned so good down your throat when you threw it down with a smile while Izzy whooped out once more after downing her own. She was already leaning over the bartop to wave down the bartender for another drink of choice while you grinned from ear to ear at Veronica. Tonight was your night. 
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"To being single and getting fucked or fucked up tonight!"
Those words were the first things the male had heard when he swung open both double revolving doors of the dive bar. The low golden light of the bar somehow illuminates the three women who acted like they were celebrating some kind of sorority or bachelorette occasion. Whatever it was, it made the man snort and roll his dark eyes to himself. Places like these weren't the spot for people who tried to be the life of the party in their old age regularly. It was a place for people like him. People that were either no-lifer alcoholics or scumbags hoped to pick up the residential lot lizards that hung around the entrance of the bar every night at 1:30 am. Just hoping to score easy cash on some drunk bastard down bad for the night.
For Simon, it was different. It was business with pleasure. A convenient mix of both that made him a comfortable little regular for Alejandro and his men. 
The crowd of people moved around him just so he could find his spot towards the back. Safer that way, just how he liked it. Eagle eyes swept over the customers that mingled with each other or sucked down cool liquor like it was ambrosia. Drunkards hung off women like they were leeches. Grubby, sweaty hands picked and pulled at clothing desperately. They whined like kicked puppies if the women they were unabashedly feeling up were rejecting them with a swift smack of their hands. It didn't stop them from trying time and time again. Another loud cheer came from the crowd, somewhere towards the bar. 
Somehow there was enough space between swaying, gyrating bodies to see who was causing so much noise. God was he a thankful man that he just so happened to have his gaze staring where it was. He saw her. Liquid metal that shimmered off smooth skin and sloping shoulders. A walking beauty amongst the gargoyles of humanity. 
Full lips on display that are curved into a radiant smile that has his eyes turning a shade darker, and cock giving one heavy twitch in the confines of his jeans. 
For Simon, the world has stopped. There is no more bar. There is no crowd of people separating you and him. There is only you and him in his mind. Your laughter which was caused by your friends, was only fuel for his stare. Your laugh caused his heart to escalate from its calm beating to a higher tempo. 
He's hot under the collar. You haven't even noticed that someone in the shadows of the bar is staring at you, but he doesn't give a fuck about that. He's staring at you and only you. You and the curves of your thighs and hips that shine under the lights of the bar. You with her sparkling eyes crinkle in amusement at something you're being told. He wants that. He wants to be looked at like that. He wants to know what you find so hilarious that your head is tipped back, exposing your chest and throat to hungry men like him to salivate over. He wonders what your skin would taste like if he sank his teeth into your throat. He wonders if you smell like honey and sin incarnate. 
He'd wonder if you were as soft and supple under his scarred palms that beat the life out of pieces of shit that decided to walk the earth. 
His line of work would be something he'd never bring home if you were there. He'd shed his skin every time once he crossed the threshold, just so he could bury himself into the deepest, warmest parts of your body. If anyone ever touched you before him, he'd break their fucking fingers into bite-sized bits and feed them the gooey mess with a rusty spoon. If you asked he'd kill himself and be reincarnated into somebody worthy of your love if he wasn't fit for it. But that's the thing. He's all you're ever going to need. He's enough and will be enough. You don't know it yet, but you're already his girl. You are so beautifully unaware that it makes his blood sizzle in his eardrums at the rancid thoughts of you and him together. 
His weight shifts to get up off the worn chair he had collapsed into earlier. When he stalls for a brief couple of seconds. Angels sing white noise serendipity when your eyes meet his. What he hopes is his gaze and nothing else that you're focused on so much that it had your own eyes widen a fraction more. He must look like he wants to unhinge his jaws and eat you whole. He likes that. Because he fucking wants to. He's obsessed, and you'll learn that the more time comes between you and him. 
When you blink. He'd be gone, him and his bottomless black holes of eyes that drew you in like a crushing state of gravity.  He slipped out through the bumping crowd, blending through intoxicated hot vapors to the winding staircase off to the side. He's gone, but the sensation of his hungry eyes on you has yet to leave.  
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thanks to @kiwiana-writes for the tag!! I did this back in like... October, and a LOT has changed since then lol
How many works do you have on ao3?
29
What's your total ao3 word count?
299,988 (though this includes 110,000 from the co-written PJO AU and 2,000 words from Manu's fic that I podficced to)
What fandoms do you write for?
Only RWRB for now, though never say never to others. I recently read Check, Please! and I've had some thoughts, but I have far too many WIPs for RWRB to write them rn. Also I have some ideas for The Pairing, but again, I have... so many RWRB wips...
Top five fics by kudos:
Longer Than Most | 26K, trans Henry accidental pregnancy (also this is how I found out it had become my top kudos-ed fic AH)
The Super Six Take a Lie Detector Test | Vanity Fair | 7K, YouTube interview
Let Me inside (I Want to Get to Know You) | 6K, epistolary roommates
Claremont 2008 | 28K, canon divergence where Ellen gets elected in 2008, childhood friends to lovers
(Dil)Do It Yourself | 17K, meet cute at a DIY dildo workshop
Do you respond to comments?
I really try to. But. I have gotten quite behind recently. I would love to catch up but it's just a bit overwhelming at the moment.
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don't really have any angsty endings?? but a fic @affectionatelyrs and I are working on is going to have an ambiguous ending and my joke is that someone should the version of it where things take the angsty route
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I mostly write happy endings, but I am going to say that Let Me inside (I Want to Get to Know You) is the happiest because it's kinda the tropiest
Do you get hate on fics?
Not hate, but I've gotten one or two weird comments, or comments asking about updates.
Do you write smut?
I do! (this is one of the things that's changed since the fall)
Craziest crossover:
The closest I've gotten to a crossover is the PJO AU, but that's not even an actual crossover.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Nope.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes!! Super Six and the Siren's Call with @inexplicablymine and @read-and-write- was the first, and then I wrote Let Me inside (I Want to Get to Know You) with @affectionatelyrs. I also did the podficcing of the voice notes for love has a voice (and it's yours) by Manu. I've also got a couple more projects coming up with Jamie also.
All time favorite ship?
Well that I've written for, FirstPrince :)
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Unfortunately I don't know if I'll ever finish Baby's First Pride because I've grown a ton as a writer since then and I would want to redo the old chapters and that just isn't all the compelling to me anymore...
What are your writing strengths?
I fucking hate this question. But I am going with dialogue and humor (and humorous dialogue) which has been co-signed by others so I feel less weird about saying this.
What are your writing weaknesses?
I would like to be able to keep smut more concise at times, because it always turns into a Big Scene but it doesn't always need to be a Big Scene. And I've been trying to work on a particular style of writing which is a bit more uhhh snappy? I don't know how to describe it. But that's still a huge work in progress, because I always get more rambly than I want.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I definitely try to include it for the characters in RWRB who speak other languages, and when I do I lean on my friends who speak those languages as a native speaker.
First fandom you wrote in?
Officially: RWRB. For myself: HP.
Favorite fic you've written?
Honestly it's always whatever I'm working on at the moment, which is a couple of WIPs: Fire Island WIP, Parasocial Relationship AU with @affectionatelyrs, and my Big Bang fic come to mind.
But really I want to know what y'all's favorite fic of mine is!!!!
I'll tag 20 people, sorry if anyone's done this recently, but in case anyone wants to go again: @mainstreamelectricalparade @14carrotghoul @anincompletelist @littlemisskittentoes @gay-flyboys
and @songliili @gayrootvegetable @leojfitz @welcometololaland @rmd-writes
and @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @captainjunglegym @cactusdragon517 @cricketnationrise
and @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @bribumblebee @nocoastposts @magicandarchery @itsmaybitheway!!!
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Note
please write some conrad fics, the tag has been DRY
Is there a Aaron Dessner that has produced that is not heartbreaking? The Great war, Tolerate it, Right where you left me, You’re losing me, Would’ve could’ve should’ve. I have nothing against Jack, but when Aaron is involved, things…hit different.  
The acronym switching from love of my life to loss of my life *UGLY CRYING*
Warnings: heartbreak
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When coming to Cousins for Belly and Jeremiah’s wedding, you knew it would be impossible to go through a whole weekend of wedding festivities without speaking to Conrad. You tried to avoid him, but he was always right there. In the kitchen talking with Laurel. In the living room with Jeremiah and Belly. In the backyard with Steven helping set up the chairs and tables under Taylor’s instructions. 
At least he didn’t come to the wedding with a girl. It would have hurt too much.
‘’I can’t believe our Belly is getting married,’’ you said as you all sat in the living room for the smallest bachelorette party. 
There was no male stripper dancing or crazy alcohol consumption like you see in movies. Just matching pajamas, a plastic ‘bride’ crown Anika got online, and sparkling mocktails. Laurel felt out of place among the younger girls, but it was her daughter’s bachelorette. She couldn’t not be there.
Taylor took a cupcake from the table, all decorated to perfection by you. ‘’I would have never guessed she would be the first of us to marry. We all thought it would be you and Con—’’ She stopped herself when she saw Belly looking at you, realizing that if she finished her sentence it would hurt you. 
A silence fell and a lump settled in your throat. You brought your drink to your lips, wishing there was alcohol in it. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol is not the solution, but it’s good at temporarily numbing the pain.
I thought that too.
Your parents bought their holiday house in Cousins where you were ten and you had known the Fishers and the Conklins since. Susannah had invited you over to play with her kids — to make friends. Although you were closer to Jeremiah and Belly in age, it was Conrad who got along with you the best. He taught you how to play Uno, came to get you when you swam too far at the beach and helped you clean your dress when stained it eating a blue popsicle. He was always nice to you. Patient and caring. As you got older, he was only looking at you. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. He’s just always been yours. 
Until he wasn’t. 
You didn’t want to sour the ambiance or steal the attention from the bride-to-be, so you got up and excused yourself to the bathroom. You closed the door, feeling the quiet sanctuary of solitude envelop you. Memories of you and Conrad flooded your mind, each more painful than its predecessor. Nothing would ever compare to the pain this breakup felt. 
Leaning against the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, tears welling up and blurring your vision. You tried to make them go away by fanning your eyes, but they overflowed, carrying with them the weight of five years of heartache.
How could it still hurt after all this time?
With trembling hands, you reached for a tissue, dabbing at your eyes, but the tears kept coming. ‘’Please, stop.’’ 
In the morning, you woke up on a blow-up mattress in Belly’s room. Your eyes were sensitive from crying and red. You tried to cover it with eye-drops and makeup, but when you came down for breakfast and Belly pulled you in a tight hug, you knew you didn’t do a great job. 
Jeremiah eyed the two of you, raising an eyebrow and silently asking what was up, but Belly shook her head. 
The rest of the day went without any downpour of tears. A part of the afternoon was spent tanning under the sun and drinking lemonades, relishing in the last moments of tranquility before the evening's rehearsal dinner. The place was going to get filled with family members and other guests soon and it’ll get very crowded. 
Steven joined you in Belly’s bedroom as you were getting ready for dinner, still wet from being at the beach with the boys. He tried to get a kiss from Taylor, but she pushed him off as he was dripping water all over her makeup bag. Jeremiah laughed in the doorway, blowing a kiss to Belly before parting to his own bedroom to change. 
Although you weren’t the only single person in the room, you never felt more alone.  
At the dinner, you sat listening to the speeches about Belly and Jeremiah’s love. Without surprise, Steve made sure to embarrass the couple and Laurel was unable to hold back her tears when her turn came. Childhood stories and teenage anecdotes about their early moments of relationship made the guests laugh and smile. 
Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Adam inadvertently attributed a story to Belly and Jeremiah, when in fact it was about you and Conrad. The frown on Jeremiah’s forehead as his father continued to speak matched Belly, both of them not knowing what he was talking about. 
‘’Eh, Dad, Belly didn’t come to my prom…’’ Jeremiah whispered to his father. ‘’I went to hers and she was wearing a purple dress, not green.’’ 
Adam paused, his realization dawning slowly. ‘’Oh. You’re right. That was Conrad. I caught him and his girl making out outside the house when they came back. Susannah was out of her mind for allowing her to sleep over…’’  
The revelation hung in the air, accompanied by an uncomfortable silence. Your grip on the glass of wine tightened involuntarily, the pressure causing it to shatter in your hand. Shards of glass cut into your skin as crimson droplets mixed with the spilled wine. 
Beside you, Taylor gasped in concern, her eyes widening at the sight. ‘’Oh my god, are you—’’ 
Ignoring the sting of pain and Taylor’s voice, you excused yourself and hurried inside to tend to your injury. You grabbed some paper towels and pressed them over your cuts. 
Unbeknownst to you, Conrad followed after you. As you stood there, watching the white soak and turn red, you felt his presence behind you. ‘’Don’t do that.’’ His touch was gentle as he took your hand and removed the soiled paper towels, placing them on the counter. ‘’Never apply pressure to an injury that’s not clean of debris. You’ll push them further in,’’ he advised, the doctor in him speaking. ‘’Let me see.’’ 
‘’I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,’’ you insisted, attempting to brush off his concern. ‘’Go back to everyone else, it’s almost time for the best man’s speech.’’ 
But Conrad didn’t budge. ‘’Sit here. I need to check if there’s glass in it.’’ he urged, his tone firm yet caring. 
Knowing there was no way out of this, you sat on one of the kitchen stools and let Conrad check your injury. He turned on the kitchen tap and you hissed as the water hit your freshly cut skin, the cool liquid soothing the sharp ache. 
You sat there as Conrad tended to your wound in silence, his fingers gentle as he inspected your hand for any embedded glass fragments. You couldn't help but notice the warmth of his touch and the upgraded woodsy cologne, their familiarity causing your heart to flutter despite the pain. 
His focus was entirely on your hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. It reminded you of that one time you fell from your bike and he patched up your knee and elbow. Once he made sure there was no glass in it, he went to fetch an antiseptic and gauze from the bathroom.  
As he was wrapping it up, you thanked him. A simple ‘thanks’. 
‘’Be careful drinking wine, next time.’’ Conrad meant it as a light teasing, but you weren’t in a mood to laugh.
‘’Don’t say anything. Please,’’ you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. ‘’It hurts seeing you — it really hurts. So much that I didn’t want to come to the wedding, but I couldn’t miss Belly’s big day. I couldn’t do that to her. What type of friend would I be?’’ The weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you, the truth of them echoing in the silence of the room. ‘’But being here, watching her and Jeremiah getting married is killing me because that should have been us,’’ you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. ‘’This house is where we met; every corner holds tons of memories of us and it’s haunting me, torturing me since I got here.’’
‘’I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry—’’ 
‘’You’re sorry? No sorry will be enough,’’ you said. ‘’You told me I'm the love of your life about a million times. You said you would never leave. But you did. I loved you so much— You were it for me, Conrad. It was always you. But now you’re the loss of my life.’’ 
He said your name, but once again, you didn’t let him speak. 
You got down from the stool, the stinging pain in your hand still present. ‘’I should get back outside. Hopefully Laurel knows a way to get blood out of my dress.’’
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unreliablesnake · 2 days
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Untitled. Part one.
Summary: Deacon wants to introduce his girlfriend to his kids.
Note: Reader is a fashion model in her twenties. Deacon and Annie only have three kids. To be honest I like him and the reader together and I see potential. I mean, jealousy from Annie's side or her coming up with the idea that Deac is experiencing some midlife crisis, the kids hating/loving her, the team finding out they're together, she gets into trouble and he has to save our protect her...
Warning: age gap, afab!reader.
PS: I told you I can't stop.
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Danica, the lead makeup artist of the photo shoot came over to you with a wide grin on her face, quickly sending the others away so she could tell you an important piece of gossip. You returned her smile as you leaned closer to listen, expecting something about the model who caused some chaos by not showing up.
But she remained silent for a little too long, and you began to assume it was about something else. And just like that, your suspicion was proven right when she finally spoke up. “There's a handsome silver fox outside with a police badge and he's looking for you. Jack is trying to convince him to leave if it's not related to an investigation, though, so if he belongs to you…”
“Oh, yes, he's mine,” you were quick to say with a bright smile. “Thanks for the heads-up, I'll talk to Jack.”
She nodded before gently patting you on the shoulder, giving you the green light to leave. Your makeup was done, it was only your hair that they had to finish before you could stand in front of the camera. They could surely survive five minutes without you, so you rushed out of the building to find your boyfriend and hopefully tell the head of security that there was nothing to worry about.
When your eyes finally fell on Deacon, you couldn't help but gulp from the sight. He was wearing a suit, something you always pointed out looked good on him, and when he noticed you, his face immediately lit up. You had been together for three months now, so this was probably the honeymoon phase making you this happy around each other, but you truly hoped things would stay this way.
His marriage ended shortly before you met thanks to Chris, and back then he wasn't ready to make a move on someone. But months later you met again on a night out with the team and he finally made up his mind to ask for your number. Long story short, he swept you off your feet with ease, and even the age difference wasn't enough to stop you from being happy together.
“Jack, he's with me. Can you let him in?” you asked with a sweet smile.
The man let out a sigh then gestured to him that he was allowed to enter the premises under your watch. Deacon leaned down to kiss the top of your head, already knowing better than to ruin your makeup, then took your hand and led you a little further away from people.
“Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad you're here, but why did you come? Did something happen?” you asked worriedly.
He was quick to reassure you with a shake of his head. “I just wanted to see you. But there's a change in the plans. Annie called; something came along and I'll have the kids over tonight,” he told you.
If he had the kids over, it meant your planned date had to be canceled. It sucked, but you were okay with it. His kids would always come first, and you liked that about him. He loved them more than anything, and it was nice to see how well he and his ex got along after the divorce. Were you jealous of their relationship? Yes, some days it was hard, but you knew they had a history together. You can't delete so many years with a piece of paper that proved you weren't together anymore.
“Raincheck?”
Deacon's smile returned as he watched you. “No. Come over tonight and meet the kids,” he suggested casually. You bit on your lower lip and avoided his gaze, showing the tell tale signs of your insecurity. “Hey, it's okay. I want them to finally meet you. Actually, I think Lila would love you. I was going through some photos of you the other day and there was this stunning picture of you wearing a purple gown. When she saw that, she said you looked like a princess and got all excited, saying she wanted to dress like that too.”
It was hard to hold back a laugh. You could imagine a young girl going nuts over the idea of wearing gowns every single day, and you could also imagine the way he was torn between smiling at his daughter and wishing she would just go to sleep.
Despite your good mood, you still didn't know if you were ready. Meeting the kids was a big step, one that he wanted to happen sooner than it would naturally occur. So you took a deep breath and stepped away, dragging him along as you walked back inside the building. Maybe if he began to focus on seeing you work, he would forget about this idea.
While Henry styled your hair, Deacon leaned against a table with his arms folded over his chest as he watched you. “You don't want to meet them,” he suddenly said. When you let out a sigh and tore your gaze away from him, he nodded. “At all or just yet?”
“It's too soon, Deac,” you admitted. “Look, we've only been together for a few months. I love you, you know that, but I don't think I'm ready for their questions. I need some time to figure out how to talk to kids first. I don't know anything about that, I don't have the experience, and–”
With a small smile on his face he came closer and signaled the hair stylist the step aside for a second. When you gave him a worried look, he just leaned down to place a light kiss on your temple. “Okay, okay, I get it. I love you too, no matter when you meet them. I can give you advice, don't worry, then we'll wait until you're ready,” he assured you.
“Lovebirds, I hate to interrupt, but if you're not ready in ten minutes, they will kill you,” Henry said, but then his eyes fell on Deacon's badge. “Not literally, of course.”
“Yeah, I assumed you meant it that way.”
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